


After-battle

by singswithtrees



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Biting, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scratching, Threesome - F/M/M, dirty and bloody, general jagerness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:26:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singswithtrees/pseuds/singswithtrees
Summary: Dimo and Maxim, and eventually Jenka, have some after-battle fun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is another thing that I like, but haven't finished. I've been trying to finish it for a long, loooong time. I'm hoping that by putting it up here, I just might motivate myself...

Dimo couldn't see the ground for all the corpses. Some of his fellows were already looting the bodies of the slain, but he stood where he was, battered and alive and reveling in the ferocious splendor of it all. He licked a spatter of blood, not his own, from his hand, and grimaced. It was already cold and drying. Not good, but it was still blood. He’d have to content himself with the sticky sweetness for now.

The savage rush of adrenaline sang through his veins in a voice of white fire, and he knew that this was what he had been made for. Tilting his head back, he uttered a long and eerie howl for the joy of it. For the blood, for the screams, for everything. The crushing of bones and the snapping of tendons, and the delicious crunch of soft flesh beneath his strong fingers. All of the sensations of the battle were still fresh, each moment bleeding into the next in the Jäger’s mind. They were all still “now”, though the last of the enemy had been dispatched. The hunt had not ended yet.

Hoofbeats pounded across the hard ground, fast approaching Dimo. He twitched one pointed ear back to better catch the sound, his head turning to glance at the horse. In the darkness the details were blurred, but the arm that shot down and wrapped itself tight around his torso and hauled him up over the front of the saddle told him the identity of the rider. Hard metal fingers gripped his belt and held him in place as Maxim spurred his mount to a gallop.

He didn’t even have to look at Maxim’s face to know what he wanted. Dimo knew the after-effects of the bloodlust well. Soon, there would be fresh blood to taste, and new wounds to lick. They’d come prepared, and extra clothing had been packed in the saddlebags, awaiting the morning and the return of rationality. While riding, they could only think about and anticipate what was to come; their tattered uniforms would have to remain on until they reached the camp.

 

Smoke and death were all that Jenka could smell, and she loved it. Much of the destruction was her work, and it satisfied her to think that so many had met their end tonight. As she cleaned the blade of her longsword on a dead man’s cloak, wet horse was added to the list. The clatter of hooves, the horse clearly driven to as fast a gallop as it could manage, drew nearer and nearer. With it came the familiar musky scent of lust, though not so familiar to her in this combination. Her eyes narrowed as she took note of the rider and his captive, and a wicked grin crept across her lips. How Maxim was managing to stay focused on riding she wasn’t sure. If it had been her, the horse would long have been abandoned, in favor of dragging Dimo off to the nearest clean place on the battlefield.

Neither of them had noticed her. Good. It would make the hunt that much more enjoyable. Jenka knew where they were likely to be headed, and knew also that the tent was one of the larger ones that the cavalry officers were allowed to have. Oh, they would get there before her; that was certain. Quick as she was on foot, she was still no match for Maxim’s charger. It meant only that the other two Jagerkin would be too lost in their lust to notice if she slipped beneath the back wall of the tent and concealed herself behind the cot to watch.

The distance back to the camp was a short run from where so much blood had been shed, and she covered the distance soundlessly, not bothering to follow the trail that Maxim had taken. The way through the copse of trees was faster for someone alone and on foot, and would bring her much nearer to her intended goal. Though they had passed before her several minutes hence, the memory of the lust that had been thick in the air when they went by was still fresh in her mind. The aftereffects of the battle rage varied, but the line between bloodlust and carnal desire was thinner than humans wanted to admit. Jenka was well acquainted with both sorts of pleasure, especially intermingled as they were now. It made the sharp edges of the world more apparent. The ones that you suspected were there, but that didn’t show themselves outside of moments where the blood rushed in your veins and the hunt was the only thing that mattered.

There. Right under those trees. The tent was staked securely, but not so much so that she couldn’t wriggle under the space between the back wall and the ground. Sword, belt, boots, and hat were taken off outside. Better to leave them safe outside, in case the boys didn’t take kindly to their voyeur. She had no intention of being discovered. That scent had been too strong to ignore, and she’d amused herself before by pondering exactly what it was that the two of them did together.

Both were naked now, clothing discarded by the door. It looked as though the tent flap had only just managed to get tied into place, but it was fastened tight enough that it wouldn’t come loose any time soon. Fresh blood ran from claw marks across Maxim’s back, the bright rivulets contrasting with the purple of his skin. His long hair was tossed forward over one shoulder so as not to become matted thick with it, and his back was turned to her. The angle was such, however, that Jenka could still get a good view of the scene.

Dimo had bitten his way down Maxim’s chest, starting at the nape of his neck and moving down in a series of red marks to the other Jäger’s hip. His rough tongue traced the curve of Maxim’s pelvis down his thigh and between his legs, where his hard cock awaited Dimo’s mouth. Growling deep and low in the back of his throat, Dimo crouched on hands and knees in front of his lover, then wrapped the fingers of one large hand around the shaft and brought it to his lips. All of the green Jäger’s normal subtlety had vanished, and his movements were fast and rough. The snarl of pleasure that escaped Maxim’s lips made it clear that his desperation equaled Dimo’s own.

Jenka drew a deep breath as quietly as she could, her right hand unfastening her trousers and then sliding down to her sex, her lithe fingers moving between the soft folds to rub her clitoris. Her eyes widened as she explored what she found there. She was far wetter than she’d expected to be from just watching. Far wetter. And the longer she stayed, the more enticing that blood smelled.

The muscles of Maxim’s lower back were tense as his hips thrust forward, the bucking motion growing more frenzied the longer he kept it up. He moaned now, loudly, and Dimo matched his pace thrust for thrust, his tongue running up and down the Maxim’s length teasingly before he took him fully into his mouth once more.

As the males kept pace with each other, so too did Jenka keep pace with them, her own arousal growing with each passing minute. First two fingers pressed tightly together, she rubbed her clit in small circles, trying not to make a sound as she watched Dimo and Maxim from her hiding place.

The combined odor of blood and sex proved to be her undoing. As Maxim’s claws sank into Dimo’s shoulders, Jenka made her decision. It, and they, smelled delicious, and she wanted a taste. The remainder of her own clothes came off and was quickly forgotten as she crept around the cot and up behind Maxim.

The taste was exquisite. Jenka’s tongue ran up Maxim’s torn flesh as her hand grabbed and wrapped itself in his hair, holding his head in place. Surprise would only be on her side for a short time longer, and Jenka left the taste of battle behind, bringing her bloody lips to Maxim’s in a fierce kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you thought! What would you like to see me write more of--smut, fluff, angst? What was your favorite part, or a line that you think I ought to use in the future? Please share--I dearly love feedback. <3


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